Hungry for More: Romantic Fantasies for Women - just published! With stories by Tiffany Reisz, Greta Christina, D.L. King and more. 21 fantasies, from "Kitchen Slut" to a cougar to Craigslist sex to BDSM to bukkake to watching two men get it on, and more!

Saturday, June 20, 2015

Firstly, I want to say that anyone who so much as picks up any of my books, whether you read the whole thing or not, let alone review it, get my automatic thanks. Out of the millions, possibly billions, of books out there, for someone to pick up my indie press erotica, whether in print, ebook or audiobook form, means so much to me. This is what I've been doing ever since I couldn't hack law school, and what I love about anthologies is that they are a group effort, organized by me as the editor. Without writers trusting me with their work, I'd just have a bunch of my own short stories, and I'm less interested in that than a work that is the sum of its parts.

That being said, when you put out a book, you have to be open to all sorts of opinions. Some people will hate your book, some people will love it. Some will mention aspects you never even considered, because you can't try to cater to every single potential reader and still turn in your book on time, or come out of the process wanting to do it again. With Come Again: Sex Toy Erotica, I knew one of the main things I wanted to do with my 65,000 allotted words was include as many different "sex toys" as I could. I put that in quotes because some of the objects in the book would fall under the traditional definition of sex toys, and others wouldn't. That was quote deliberate.

In fact, I was able to forget that the book was even focused on sex toys because of how flawlessly they were integrated into the narrative in most cases. It didn’t feel like the author was simply checking off activities on a list, the toys just felt like a part of the way the characters had sex, and that saved the whole anthology from feeling formulaic and repetitive.

This means so much to me because the first and foremost things I want my books to do is arouse readers, to tell good stories, to say something new and exciting. I am so proud of the authors for stepping up their game and doing that, at least, to my mind, so it's refreshing when readers key in on that aspect too.

One of the toughest parts of being an anthology editor, after the very toughest, which is having to send rejection letters, which, as I always say, is probably the aspect that will eventually make me quit, is that I don't know how my books are doing sales-wise for at least six months after their publication, due to the way my royalty statements arrive. So it's hard to know if anyone cares about my books, or if they have fallen into the book forest and no one has seen or cared about them. When I get signs before that time that people not only have picked them up, but do care, enough to critique them and share what they did and didn't like, it makes me feel like I've done my job well. So thank you, and to everyone who's reviewed the book. I plan to share more about it soon, specifically the many queer stories in the book, which I hope are being read by a diverse audience (I love surprising readers who may not be expecting it with elements that may be new to them, whether it's a thigh harness, such as in "Gift" by Dena Hankins, or a trans character, such as in Zee Giovanni's "Lost and Pounded"). But reviews like this let me know people are reading, and that people care about the choices I make as an editor.

Jailbait. It's a taunting, teasing word. Are we supposed to be repulsed? Intrigued? Repulsed because we are intrigued? Yet it's the combination of the entire title that truly gives the story its meaning. As a reader, I often find it challenging to go toward the taboo, to not stop myself from enjoying it, to not think, In real life, would I be squicked or condemn these people? Powerful writing humanizes those society would deem sick or wrong, and in this case, even grapples with some of the ostracism the characters face for acting on their desires.

Dictionary.com defines torch song as "a popular song concerned with unhappiness or failure in love," with its origins coming from "the phrase to carry a torch for (someone)." That, far more than the taboo nature of a 29-year-old single mother having a torrid romance with an 18-year-old young man, is what this story is about, to my mind. Publishers Weeklycalled the story "unexpectedly poignant" and that captures part of what I loved about it, why I knew I wanted it in my book even though I also knew it would likely throw at least a few readers off with the way it employed its tenderness, its desire, its romance through an often socially unacceptable lens. What Alexander does is build both the tension and the taboo, weaving them, playing Tanner's teenage lust against Lyla's mix of propriety and hunger. The story starts off telling us exactly what she's strived to do for the last decade: "Lyla tried to be a good single mother." That principle guides her, yes, but she is also a woman, and has natural human desires, and the story forces the reader, and the characters, to question whether what we've been told about age differences is in fact correct. It doesn't give us an answer, but lets us decide, and pulls on our heartstrings in the process. Here's an excerpt of one of their earliest moments:

From "Jailbait Torch Song" by Valerie Alexander

He leaned into the car. “I just wanted to tell you that we have a home game tomorrow night. You should come.”

“Yeah, I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t have a reason to be there,” she said. “Because it would look weird.”

He walked away. Puzzled, she waited for him to return and say good-bye. Then the passenger door swung open and he climbed in the car.

Oh no. Quickly she elevated her window. “I have to pick up my son,” she said.

Then his hand was in her hair, hauling her across the seat and onto his long body as if she were weightless. He was shaking. His arms went around her, pulling her against his chest so hard she could feel his heart thumping. He kissed her with almost feverish desperation, his cold hands sliding up under her sweater and under her bra. “Don’t stop me,” he muttered into her mouth and then she was grinding all over the promise of his hard cock, humping him with abandon.

I don't want to give away the whole story, because it's a beautiful, tender, sexy, romantic one. It's one of the most memorable stories I've published, in my opinion, and one I could reread any time and find new nuances. I hope you'll check it out, and I hope I get to publish many more like this.

Lately, whether between the move or my impending 40th birthday or who knows what, I've been feeling stuck creatively. Even though I have a to do list that seems to get bigger every day, I don't always know where to start, or, more importantly, why to start. What am I doing? What does it matter? I love putting my books out in the world, I love the process of crafting a specific set of writing and submitting it, but sometimes, I don't even get started before I'm questioning what the point is.

But this weekend, when The Mid published my essay "Why I'd Trade My Dream Career For A Baby", I was reminded that writing from the heart, writing our truths, matters. I've seen such an amazing, blossoming, fascinating discussion about it in the comments on my personal Facebook page, ranging from fertility options to whether adoption actually costs an exorbitant amount. I've had people share their fertility and pregnancy stories, good and bad. I've heard about adopting and fostering and advanced maternal age and gotten heartwarming advice.

Last night, I saw someone I haven't seen in person in maybe a decade. She was waving at me in a room full of people and I was actually certain she was waving at someone else, mostly because I wouldn't have thought she'd remember me. Lo and behold, she did and had read my piece and shared some encouraging information and I was so touched that someone who, because of my own insecurities, I think I'd have pegged as "too cool" to care about little old me was so genuine and heartfelt. My essay became a talking point, a moment of connection, a way of, via my own sharing of personal details, inviting other people to share theirs.

It reminded me that, while of course not all of my writing is about that kind of intimacy, that's what I want more of from myself, from my work. That's the guiding principle I want to strive for: deep truths, not partial ones. Risky ones, scary ones, truths that might unnerve or upset someone but that demand to be told. Truths that take courage, truths that invite others to tell theirs. I've missed that, been looking for it, been feeling listless and nervous about where I am, in my life, geographically, pretty much in every way. I don't have an exact plan of how to go from that restless, unfocused place to one where I tell deep truths every day and make a sufficient living, but that's where I'm heading, where I want to be heading, and I want to infuse the rest of what I do with that same passion. So thank you to everyone who read the piece, who took a moment to say something encouraging, who made me feel less alone.

Sunday, June 14, 2015

While the title of this post is not strictly true, neither is the title of my first piece at The Mid, "I'd Trade My Dream Career for a Baby." More accurate would be the title I submitted it with: "I’m 39 and Sad That I Have Books Instead of Babies" but both are true in their way. If someone said to me, "If you stop ____, you'll get pregnant" and the blank was writing one of my columns or editing anthologies or, ahem, writing extremely oversharing personal essays that probably embarrass my boyfriend, I'd probably do it. After all, nothing else has worked so far, right?

But of course I have career goals, and this year one of mine has been to write for at least 12 new publications in 2015 (I'd love more, if you're an editor who wants to work with me!), an average of one a month. I've done my best to be both a specialist in the fields of sex and dating and erotica, but also a generalist, and am incredibly proud that my new work this year is mainly focused outside of bedroom activities because I have plenty of other interests. So I write about hoarding and Google alerts and libraries. I've got a few others in the works about my life and assorted passions, and for me, writing about an array of topics helps me not get burned out writing about sex and leads me down paths I wouldn't have discovered otherwise.

So no, I'm not only focused on having kids, because I know that certainly won't help, and some of what I've been reading about just how unhealthy stress is on the body, especially for pregnant women, has been quite sobering. That more than anything has made me think hard about how I want to live, how I want to work, what I want my days to look like. The last few weeks have been stress city between moving and money and what's felt like not enough time. The bottom line is that if freelancing isn't a good fit, I will have to find another way to make a living. I don't know yet and won't really know until the fall what the best path is. Some will depend on outside forces, but as a Serenity Prayer devotee, I'm trying to look inside and ask what I'm capable of, what feels right, and what's sustainable vs. what's pie in the sky. I don't know yet, but I do know "dream career" can't mean "work as much as possible, and think about work whenever you're not working." That hasn't been healthy and isn't worth it, and wouldn't be doable with a kid anyway. So I'm pulling back a little and trying to plan a summer that is fun and filled with love and friends and travel and searching and openness.

Not related to any of this, savor for love and enjoying the moment, because they made me smile yesterday, here are some heart shaped scones, which were very good (though I thought they were chocolate chip and they were actually blueberry, so had a little surprise bite the first time):

I moved four days ago, and am settling into real suburbia, where everyone drives and life is a teensy bit different than Red Bank. When the weather is not so blazingly hot, I will explore more, and plan to relearn how to drive 22 years after I did it the first time. Looking forward to exploring and getting my slot machine action on in Atlantic City and whatever else is happening here. It's an adventure, and as averse as I usually am to change, this year change feels inevitable, with my 40th birthday looming, so I am embracing it.

For now, I'm wrapping up Best Women's Erotica 2016 and assorted articles and unpacking my thousands of books and hoping to use this new home as a way to recharge and refresh my focus and truly ask myself what I want to do with the rest of my life. Some days I think I know, and others I have no clue.

My last few years in New York felt like I was trotting along, focusing more on my heart's whacked out whims than any concrete plans for the future. This year, I'd like to change that. I don't know exactly how yet, but I know that change is vital if I want to have a sustainable career and a sustainable life. I found so many old notebooks and journals and jottings, and they reminded me that in some ways, I was more successful in 2005 than in 2015. Yet in 2015, I've been pursuing new ideas, new topics, new approaches. I've said, "I could live anywhere" and meant it. I've booked a trip to Bangkok for this summer. I've negotiated for more money on a book deal and an article, when in the past I'd just been so grateful for anyone's yes I took the first thing I was offered. I truly can't predict what this year will bring, but I'll spend most of it in my chandelier-filled office/bedroom, trying to figure it out.

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

I've decided to make my Why I Picked It series a weekly one to run on Wednesdays to highlight why I chose a particular erotica story for one of my anthologies. Today's it's "Point and Click" by L.C. Spoering in Best Bondage Erotica 2015.

During the five years I edited the Best Bondage Erotica series (2011-2015), I did my best to always up the ante and include both common types of bondage and uncommon ones. I believe they work quite well alongside each other. So two of the main reasons I loved "Point and Click," aside from the way the story just pulled me in from the first sentence and didn't let go, are that the narrator is a sex worker and the bondage takes place while two women are in separate rooms, conversing over their computer screens. The interplay between them is fascinating and pushed me to think about what "bondage" truly means, and what can tie someone to someone else, the nature of eroticism and obedience, and how strong a connection people can have even when they are geographically separated.

You can read a little of how the scene starts at The Frisky Fairy, and below is an excerpt that shows how a very unique kind of bondage works in this story. There's voyeurism and exhibitionism here, of course, but I think it's the power play element that really does it for me; there's no real way to "make" the narrator obey her Mistress here, yet the Mistress is able to get her to stay in place all with the power of her words and actions thanks to technology. She knows what she can get her to do even if they've never played in person, and that tension, of being bound yet free, of not having a physical restraint like ropes or handcuffs to strain against or hold the narrator down, is expertly played up. I love erotica that surprises me, that puts a new twist on a topic I've read about countless times, and this story provides that and so much more.

From "Point and Click" by L.C. Spoering in Best Bondage Erotica 2015

“You keep your hands where they are. Like I’ve tied them down,” she says. I flex my fingers in place, imagine the ropes she might wind around my wrists, anchoring them to the desk, wrapped around the legs of the furniture, a knot where I can’t see it.

“You stay on your knees, kitten,” she goes on, and I’m suddenly aware of them, the bend of the joint and the way the bone presses into the carpet, carpet that seems so soft when padding barefoot across it, but is now much firmer, seemingly rocky under my weight.

“I want you to watch me.” Her legs are parted wide, but my eyes go to her face, half-shrouded in the darkness that has fallen over her room. It’s night where she is too, and the lamps are offset enough that only the barest pools of light lap at her toes and the tips of her hair.

“I want to watch you,” I say, and it’s like an admission, a confession, my hands pressed to the hard surface of my desk, my wrists burning with the imagined scrape of rope against tender skin.

“I know you do. You have for a long time, haven’t you?” The dildo is in her hand again, and she lets it rub along the length of her labia, the skin catching against the rubber and tugging along—her cunt moves like a mouth, like lips twitching into a smile just before they are kissed. My tongue feels like liquid against my teeth.

We’ve gotten off together before; I know her face when she comes. But this is different, and I find myself searching her expression for each twitch of muscle and brush of her hair over her forehead. Her fingers are long and graceful; they guide the rubber cock to her slit, pushing just enough that the labia parts and the head inches inside.

“I’ve wanted you to watch me,” she says, as though the thread of conversation is still strung between us, thin and wavering like it’s running full with electricity. She lets out a small moan as the dildo moves farther inside her, and I squirm again, finding my cunt against my calf and pressing down to chase some form of release.

“Keep your hands there, kitten,” she says, arching an eyebrow though her mouth is slightly agape and she is panting just a little.

“Y-yes,” I agree, nodding again, my pinky cramping all of a sudden, as though it knows it’s not supposed to move yet needing that movement for no reason at all but to distract me.

“Yes what?” she presses, and I swallow, almost gulp, my heart ringing in my ears once more.

Saturday, June 06, 2015

As I get ready to move next week, I'm spending my last few days exploring Red Bank, packing and catching up on work, but also reflecting on my two years here, going back to being a Jersey Girl, but as an adult not a child. One of the biggest changes in my life since living in Brooklyn is that it's a lot lonelier in Jersey. Part of me is a loner, so I didn't think I minded, but some days, that sense of not having anyone to talk to, to call and go meet for coffee, to simply discuss the ins and outs of this crazy up and down career I've chosen, get to me more than others. When I feel like I'm making progress and getting things done and advancing myself, I don't miss that camaraderie as much, but when I don't, like this week, I start to hit the job listings and wonder if I will ever be comfortable in a position that forces me, every day, to push myself toward the new and different.

What I've chosen by way of books, editing erotica anthologies, can also feel like I'm in a void. Whereas for five years I ran an erotic reading series and did all sorts of other live events, I don't do that as much anymore because I am in a different place in my life, one where I'm focused on the long-term (though stay tuned as a very special sex toy store and I are talking about a reading this fall). With my books, I don't find out how they're selling for at least six months from their release date, which can feel like an eternity. Even then, I get numbers on a sheet of paper, a plus or minus next to a dollar sign, a map I'm supposed to read to tell whether my books are doing well or bombing or just plodding along. It's tough because numbers are not emotional; they tell me how many months of rent I can pay with them, but they don't tell me about the heart of the book, they don't tell me whether the choices I've made, selecting these specific stories out of dozens or hundreds, were choices that resonated with readers.

Of course, the numbers matter; the numbers are what purchased the bank check that is letting me move into my new home. The numbers are what determine whether I'm granted the opportunity to keep on editing books or not. This is, after all, a business. But as much as I'm a businessperson too, I'm also, well, a person. I didn't choose this field to get rich, though I want to learn how to make it more sustainable. I don't even really feel like I chose this field, but rather that it chose me, speaking to me when I was on the verge of babbling and flailing my way through even more law firm interviews and feeling as out of place as I ever have in my life. It chose me and whispered, You can do this. I quite unceremoniously left law school and followed this circuitous path that has now led me to working from home, alone, yet not entirely alone.

Some of the ways I connect with people through my work are precisely by reading so many authors' work when I'm editing an anthology. Then once I've chosen the stories and my publisher has approved them, I may simply email the formal details of the book to the authors, but I try to do more than that. I know $50 is a pittance, yet it's the pittance I can pay, but I hope that I can give my authors something more than that. I hope that I can introduce their work to new readers; I hope that I can, in some cases, offer videos and audio and connection. In the case of Come Again: Sex Toy Erotica, I can interviews these amazing writers and get a little insight into the part I always want to know: how did this story come to be?

And before that six month mark where I see the numbers, if I'm lucky, I get to see what actual readers think of the book. This week, one that was filled with the angst of parting with umpteen belongings and packing up everything I own and wondering if I should apply for jobs at casinos and chuck the hardest parts of freelance life, I got two unexpected and delightful reviews that made me think, maybe everything is going to be okay. That made me think, people out there want these stories. That made me think, thank you for pushing me to do my job better. So without further ado, onto these two dedicated, thorough, thoughtful bloggers who remind me that erotica matters to people, deeply.

If you’re reading this Rachel, I need you to stop picking such hot erotica. It’s making it very hard for me to do my work reading in public.

See, the thing is that I got to the fourth story (“The Thug”) and my panties started getting noticeably wet. The fifth story (“Housewarming the Craftsman”) made me shift a bit, and do that thing where I let my panties slip between my labia and rub against my clit a little. The thirteenth story (“Auction, in Quotation Marks”) I was immensely turned on, and I considered going back to my tent, but I was helping my partner work a bit. By the sixteenth story (“Point and Click”) I could feel that fluttering in the bottom of my stomach that told me that I’d need to get somewhere soon or I might cum.

She's also got excerpts from three stories up for you to read, including "The Thug" by Sommer Marsden, “Auction, in Quotation Marks” by LN Bey and "Point and Click" by L.C. Spoering. Want to read more? Excerpts from all 21 stories and buying links are on Tumblr.

Next up Formidable Femme's review of Come Again: Sex Toy Erotica. It largely focuses on the queer and LGBT stories, which I especially appreciate. She crunched the numbers and found "Out of 24 stories, 8 of them featured queer characters, and 9 of them included sex toys you wouldn’t be able to find in any sex shop." Both of those aspects were extremely important to me; I wanted the concept of "sex toys" to be varied and novel and unique. I wanted it to expand beyond what we think of when we hear the term. Here's a snippet praising one of the most talked about stories in the book, "Gift" by Dena Hankins:

While I honestly enjoyed each story in Come Again, I truly loved, and was even moved by, a select few. My favorite story in the collection was Gift by Dena Hankins. Gift features two women in their 60’s and 70’s exploring lesbian sex for the first time. They have been sleeping together for a few weeks, but the story focuses on a new toy they test together, leading to a new level of pleasure neither woman has ever experienced. Gift not only turned me on, but deeply moved me as well. In the story, one of the women deals with physical disability and mobility issues. With the introduction of the new toy, she is able to reclaim her sexuality in spite of her limited mobility and engage fully with her lover for the first time. For the first time, my eyes welled with tears while reading erotica – a true testament to the undeniable beauty of Gift and Dena Hankins’ talent as an author.

Friday, June 05, 2015

On comeagainbook.com, I have links for the main online sites you can buy Come Again: Sex Toy Erotica, my latest sexy short story pride and joy.

But I also wanted to share the local shops that are so important to me as a reader, consumer and book lover, especially because I don't think I'll have an indie bookstore near me in Atlantic City, and I sure wish I did. If I ever win the lottery, I'd love to open a bookstore, because how fun would that be to be surrounded by books? Well, I'm actually surrounded by books pretty much all the time, given how many I own, even with giving away at least a thousand during this move, but still. That's a crazy dream I have, but supporting real live bookstores is not crazy. It's important.

Also, most of these stores have 1 copy of the book; a very small handful have more. So this makes your support of my books all the more important. Buying local sends the message: readers want erotica. If you don't make that clear, these stores don't know. In general, many indie bookstores don't have an erotica section, some don't have a sexuality section, and some don't even have any erotica books, so for these stores to go out on a limb for my book means they believe in it. My dream is to edit another book of sex toy erotica with all new authors, but for that to happen, this one has to knock it out of the park. This year especially, my sense is that my books are being put to a test: will you do well enough to make it worth our while to keep working with you? I dearly hope the answer is yes!

Here's the list I've been given, and I'd love to add to it! Know of a store that carries the book not listed? Email me at rachelk at comeagainbook.com and I'll add it. Want to stock it? Email me you're info and I'll connect you with my publisher, Cleis Press. I missed Independent Bookstore Day earlier this month, but really, isn't every day Independent Bookstore Day? THANK YOU to all of these places for stocking my book. Trust me: it matters, especially for someone like me who gets by with a lot of help from everyone who's ever purchased my books. I hope to keep on doing this for a long, long time, and your support helps make that happen! Already have the book or can't purchase it? Tweet about it and tag @comeagainbook or mention us on Facebook. I'm also going to work on getting the most ancient bio of mine around updated to something more modern; I've one a lot since those early, early days. Up All Night was the first anthology I edited, and I actually co-edited that one. This year, I think I'll hit 60 anthologies! While that is something I'm very proud of, I'm far more interested in what the next book will look like, and which authors I can publish for the very first time.

Sometimes I get to pick the titles for my columns, sometimes they get changed whether due to space or whatever my editors feel would work best. So this week's Philadelphia City Paper (I'm back after last week's hiatus) is called "The unsung heroes of arousal," though my working title was "The Clit Isn’t The Only Underrated Sexual Body Part." I sent this photo but they used one of Cliteracy. If you're in Philadelphia, you can read the print version too. It's about both those things. Please check it out and if you have ideas for future columns, email me at rachelcitypaper at gmail.com - I am always open to pitches! See the column's archives to get a look at what I've covered so far. Next week's is on Caitlyn Jenner. Once I move to the Atlantic City area next week, I won't be traveling to New York unless it's for a writing workshop I'm teaching because it's too far (at least 7 hours round trip) but I will hopefully be going to Philly more often so I can cover local sex-related events.

Tuesday, June 02, 2015

Sometimes, Amazon.com can feel like the Bermuda Triangle. I wish I understood how it worked, because online sales make up the bulk of my book sales. Generally, I like to check on my books and make sure they are in stock, see what people are saying about them, and get as good of a read on their status as I can. So it's frustrated me for a while that for some reason, Gotta Have It: 69 Stories of Sudden Sex is excluded from Amazon search until you tell them to include adult items.

See?

When you allow adult items:

But I can search for and find my books about submission with no problem:

Yes, it's an adult item, but as you can see below, from screenshots taken this morning, other titles of mine show up right away in search. This problem means that I am likely losing sales from people who might want to find the book, but can't. It also means that when I search my books by price to see if there are any sales (I'm usually notified, but I like to see what's happening because prices fluctuate), the fact that Gotta Have It Kindle is only $7.12 doesn't show up. It was even cheaper last week! That's a huge bargain for 69 stories. The paperback is currently only $7.50 on Amazon.

I love the fact that the book is on sale, and I know my publisher is looking into getting it properly shown in search. Until then, though, I wanted to let you know about this sale, because this was the start of my 69 story anthology editing, one I hope to continue because these books are near and dear to me. I would love the chance to do it again and get to work with so many authors at once, and the way that can happen is for Gotta Have It along with its similarly sized peers, The Big Book of Orgasms and The Big Book of Submission, to keep doing well.

So if you've thought about buying Gotta Have It but weren't sure, now's a great time because it's on sale, which could end at any moment. If you're having trouble finding your own or other authors' titles on Amazon, you may be having a similar adult search problem, so keep looking, and authors, always save direct links to your books so you can access them.